


When Nightmares Lead to Day Dreams

by Drarryismymuse (Hatchersn)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Depression, Drinking to Cope, Explicit Consent, Frottage, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-27 07:43:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatchersn/pseuds/Drarryismymuse
Summary: Harry Potter didn't want to return to Hogwarts for 8th year, concerned that the castle held too many terrible memories. Lacking any other plan, though, he agreed. He soon discovered how right AND how wrong he was.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First, I want to thank the ConsentFest Mods for pulling this incredibly timely and important fest together. I also want to applaud their patience with a newbie like me who doesn't know time management if it blocked my schedule itself. The prompts for this fest were beyond amazing and I had such a hard time narrowing down the selection. I only hope I have been able to please my prompter and help explore ideas of consent. 
> 
> Secondly, I literally would not be half the writer I am without my amazing, selfless Betas that came together and spent their weekend working with me. To C and G - you are my literal baby angels and I am so happy we have been able to connect over this crazy, intoxicating world of Harry Potter Fanfic!

The new Hogwarts term would be starting tomorrow. Harry sat on his cot in Ron’s room in the Burrow and stared out the window. He had been back and forth to Hogwarts many times over the past six months, helping to rebuild the destroyed structures and construct a new dormitory for returning 8th year students. He still wasn’t sure he  _ wanted _ to return as an 8th year, but McGonagall had convinced him he should. He had no other plans and nowhere else felt like home, so he had given in easily. 

He turned toward the bedroom door as George popped his head in, “Dinner’s about ready. Mum asked me to fetch you.” 

Harry didn’t move.

George entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Harry returned his gaze to the window, his eyes not seeing anything. The cot dipped slightly as George settled next to him. 

“I know it feels overwhelming right now, but it won’t be so bad,” George said.

“You can’t know that,” said Harry. “Hogwarts is my home, but...there’s so much pain there. What if I can’t handle it?”

George didn’t say anything for a while, just sat in companionable silence. “You’ll still have Ron and Hermione, and many others that made it because of you. We have no choice but to move forward and just  _ try _ . It’s what they all would have wanted.” 

George briefly clasped Harry’s hand and stood to leave the room. “Now come and eat before Ron inhales it all,” he said, with his trademark smile.

Harry took a deep breath and followed George to the warm, noisy kitchen.

~*~*~*

Harry, Hermione, and half the Weasley clan got up the next morning and prepared to go to Hogwarts. Returning 8th year students had been given the option to travel to Hogwarts either by the train or by portkey.

Harry did not feel up to an hours-long ride on the Hogwarts Express and days ago had announced his intention to travel by portkey. Ron had expressed that he didn’t care how they arrived and Hermione had agreed immediately, stating that “it would allow an earlier arrival and thus more time to start studying for N.E.W.T.s.”

When they arrived at the local portkey office Harry was pleasantly surprised to see Neville already there and waiting for the same key the trio would be taking. 

“Hey there, Neville,” said Harry, grabbing him into a hug. “Long time no see!”

Laughing, Neville enthusiastically returned the hug. “Oi, you’re right! It’s been, what, nearly a week!” He then greeted Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys. They had all been in regular contact over the summer as they worked to rebuild Hogwarts. 

“I imagine most of us will be taking a portkey, eh? I doubt anyone would feel comfortable on the train,” said Neville.

Harry nodded his agreement and they all fell silent, each thinking of their own demons left over from the war. 

Ron broke the silence. “Can’t wait ‘til the feast though!” 

Harry sniggered and Hermione lightly smacked Ron on the arm, not bothering to hide her amused smile. Moments later, the four friends swirled away towards the Hogsmeade portkey station.

Once they arrived in Hogsmeade, Harry stepped to the side and steadied himself against the wall. He didn’t think he would ever get accustomed to portkey travel. It always tied his stomach in knots. 

Noticing this, Hermione rifled through her purse and pulled out a small vial. “Anti-nausea potion. It’ll settle your stomach,” she whispered to Harry. 

Grateful, he took the vial and threw it back in one go, his stomach settling instantly. 

“Ron and I need to go to Scrivenshaft’s. Would you like to join us?” asked Hermione.

“No. I already got all the supplies I needed last week. I’ll pop over to the Three Broomsticks for a pint. Neville, want to join?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got to get to the castle. I started a seedling with Professor Sprout last week and it’s due for a repot today. She promised I could do it!” Neville said enthusiastically. 

“Right. Well, I’m still going for the pint. You guys can come get me when you’re done and we can head to the castle, yeah?” said Harry, already heading out the door of the portkey office, completely oblivious to the worried glance shared between Hermione and Ron.

~*~*~*

Harry entered the Three Broomsticks and walked straight to the bar. “One pint of mead and one Firewhiskey, please.” 

Harry stared ahead as he tapped his fingers on the bar.

“Feeling the need for courage or oblivion?” 

Harry turned toward the familiar voice and his eyes widened a fraction as he took in the slumped form of the man next to him. He didn’t know how he had missed the platinum hair on his way in. 

Maybe it was because the Malfoy he remembered was unrecognizable as the man in front of him. The hair and the voice were the same, but the defeated posture and haggard face were new. 

“Malfoy?”

“Verbose as always, I see,” said Malfoy, lazily taking a sip of his redcurrant rum.

“You don't have to be a git. I just wasn't expecting to see you here.” Harry pushed a hand through his hair, “Are you going back to Hogwarts?”

“Yes.” 

“O-oh. I didn't know.”

“Yes, well. I couldn't afford to put an announcement in the Prophet,” said Malfoy, with a sneer.

Harry bristled with annoyance. “Well you wouldn't be able to come back at all if I hadn't spoken on your behalf at the trials. I think a loss of funds is a pretty small price to pay for what you’ve done.”

Malfoy hastily gulped the remaining rum in his glass and, with a scathing look at Harry, turned and stalked out of the pub.

Harry scowled and watched him leave, then turned back to the bar to see Rosmerta quietly placing his order in front of him with such a look of pity on her face he wanted to simultaneously cry and shove her. Instead, he threw a few sickles on the bar and grabbed his drinks, stalking off to a dark corner to nurse his bad mood. 

_ Some first day back _ , he thought.

~*~*~*

Hermione and Ron entered the pub as Harry swayed away from the bar, clasping his fifth and sixth Firewhiskey.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said with a frown as she stepped forward and grabbed him by the elbow to steady him. 

Ron took one of the drinks from Harry. “Thanks for the drink, mate!” he said, quickly swallowing it down. 

“What happened? You said one pint. We were barely gone thirty minutes!” chastised Hermione. 

“Yeah, well, s'no matter what happened or that the pointy git’s here anyway,” Harry muttered, downing his other whiskey.

“Malfoy!” yelled Ron, “Blimey, no wonder you’re pissed. I'll need another too!”

“Oh honestly, Ron, grow up! I'm not surprised Draco is here. What other choice did he have?” said Hermione, her patience wearing thin. 

Harry turned to head back to the bar, but Hermione grabbed his arm and, shooting Ron a warning look, she dragged him out of the pub.

~*~*~*

An hour later, the three friends sat in Harry’s room in the 8th year dorm. So few of them had come back that each student had their own room this year and even though the boys’ and girls’ dorms were still separate, there were no rules or restrictions to them visiting each other. 

Harry lay on his bed and groaned, his head still swirling with the multiple drinks he had consumed in such a short time. The mix of portkey travel, binge drinking, and seeing Malfoy was too much.

“I feel like a bludger has let loose in my head. Don't you have a potion, ‘Mione?”

Hermione sniffed and raised her nose in the air. “I do, but you really need to learn that there are consequences to the irresponsible way you've been acting lately.” 

“Bugger off then and let me suffer in peace,” Harry barked out. 

“Harry James Potter! Your poor decisions do not give you a pass to be cruel. Come on, Ron, clearly he isn't fit for company right now.” Hermione stormed out of Harry’s dorm. Ron shrugged at Harry, gave him a slight wave and followed Hermione down the hall.

Harry groaned again and buried his head in his pillow. If this was what being back at Hogwarts would be like, then maybe he would be better suited to wallowing in Grimmauld Place alone and away from judgemental, albeit well-meaning, friends.

~*~*~* 

Harry was awoken by an incessant knocking on his door. Stretching, he sat up in bed and tilted his head side-to-side, testing for pain. Thankfully his headache had subsided, but his stomach ached with hunger. He grabbed his wand from the side table and waved it at the door.

“Hey mate, how ya feelin’?” Ron said as he walked into Harry’s room. “I came to get you for dinner, the feast is about to begin. I figured you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Thanks Ron. Is ‘Mione still mad at me? I was such a tosser.” Harry rubbed his face roughly. He hated how he lashed out when he drank.

“Err...She’s fine, just...I mean, ya know...worried, is all.” Ron’s cheeks turned the slight pink they always did when he was a little embarrassed. 

Harry smiled, “Thanks, mate. I’m fine...you can let ‘Mione know that too. Now,” Harry clapped Ron on the back, “let’s eat!” 

~*~*~*

The feast was wonderful. The House Elves had really gone all out to make the welcome as celebratory as possible; after all, there was a lot to celebrate. To his surprise, Harry even enjoyed himself. Still feeling duly chastened, he did not partake in any of the Goblin Wine that was on offer at the 8th year table and instead focused on cheering for each new Gryffindor the hat sorted and catching up with those in his year he hadn’t seen over the summer. 

The only blemish on the night was Malfoy. He and the other 8th year Slytherins kept to one end of the table and didn’t speak to anyone else unless directly addressed. Harry’s eyes kept straying to him. The change in his demeanor that Harry had noticed at the pub persisted. He sat close to Pansy and nursed a goblet of wine all night, nibbling at the food she had placed in front of him. He seemed perfectly civil when addressed, but something about his changed behavior was unsettling.

Now, laying in his room alone, desperately trying to sleep, Malfoy was all he could think about. His mind’s eye roamed over the sharp, somewhat gaunt cheekbones, the downcast eyes, the contrast of his dark robes over his pale hair and skin.

Harry rolled over and violently fluffed his pillow, flopping back down onto the bed and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to trick them into sleep. It didn’t work. Instead of sleep, he saw Malfoy’s hair fall fetchingly into his eyes when he had looked down quickly at one point upon catching Harry’s stare over dinner. 

“Argh!” Harry grabbed his head and dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Not fucking  _ Malfoy _ !”

For a while, Harry had suspected he was attracted to blokes as well as girls. He and Ginny had not continued dating when the war ended. He still loved her, but it had grown too familial. Over the summer, when he was not working on rebuilding Hogwarts, attending post-war trials, or staying at the Burrow, he had stayed at Grimmauld Place and started going to Muggle gay bars to test the waters. There, he had gained an appreciation for drinking and fine-looking blokes. 

And now his brain apparently thought  _ Malfoy _ was a fine-looking bloke. Harry really,  _ really _ wished he had brought a vial of Dreamless Sleep with him. He purposely thought through Quidditch plays in his head while he drifted into a fitful sleep.

_ ~* _

_ Harry was in a dark tunnel. Ice creeped along the walls, drawing closer and closer. He pushed someone behind him, away from the threat, and raised his wand. A dark, cloaked figure drifted toward him and he froze, panic rising as the cloaked figure passed him by and reached for the person behind him. He fought the invisible hold placed on him, but couldn’t break free. He heard screams but couldn’t turn around.  _

_ ~* _

Harry startled awake, a choked cry lodged in his dry throat, heart racing, sweat soaking his shirt, and clutching his wand tightly. He cast a Tempus Charm. He had only been asleep for 45 minutes. The room was suddenly too small and too stuffy and too much. He lunged out of bed and left his room, silently creeping down the hall toward the common room. As he rushed to the exit, intent on getting out, he didn’t notice a lone, pale head jerk in his direction, watching him leave. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Harry! You’ll be late for your first class if you don’t get up!” 

Harry reached for his duvet as a sudden blast of cold hit his sleep-warmed body. Not finding it, and still hearing the screech of a voice, he forced one gritty eye open. “Bloody hell, ‘Mione, I could have been naked.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I happen to know very well that you don’t sleep naked, and anyhow I don’t see how it would matter either way. I’m not here to ogle, just to get your arse moving. Even Ron is up!”

Harry found his wayward duvet and pointedly covered his whole body — face and all — again. Hermione huffed, “Fine! If you don’t care about your future then I won’t either.”

Harry waited a few minutes. He didn’t hear anything, but he also hadn’t heard his door open and close. He peeked out of the duvet only to see Hermione standing in the center of the room, one hand on her hip, staring daggers at him. 

“Urgh! Fine!” He threw the duvet off and rolled out of bed. Hermione didn’t move. Staring her down, he slowly removed his shirt, smiling when it had the intended effect. 

“Right. Well, if you hurry you can grab breakfast before Herbology.” Despite her pink cheeks, Hermione held her head high and calmly exited his room. 

~*~*~*

The 8th year dormitory was located in the base of the Astronomy Tower, which was at the front of the castle and closest to the Great Hall. Harry was quite thankful for this as he rushed to make it there before breakfast ended. If he was going to get through today he needed some  _ very _ strong tea.

He slid onto the bench of the 8th year table next to Hermione, who eyed his disheveled appearance, but smiled at him nonetheless, pleased to see him up and ready.

“So, you mentioned we have Herbology first, yeah?” he said as he splashed a bit of milk into his dark tea. 

“Did you not look at the schedule?” 

“Er...well, no.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, “I know 8th years have all classes together so…” he shrugged. 

Hermione rolled her neck and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘lazy sodding men’, then sweetly said, “Yes, Harry - we have Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, a break, then Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and end on Astronomy.” 

“Wicked! No History of Magic!” cried Ron around a mouthful of sausage. 

“Ron! You didn’t look either? Honestly!” Hermione huffed and grabbed her books, “I’ll see you two in Herbology. I presume you can make it to the greenhouses on your own.” She then stomped out of the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron shared a look and shrugged. “Didn’t figure it mattered,” said Ron, shoveling some eggs into his mouth. 

Harry chuckled and took a large gulp of his tea, which he promptly choked on when he inadvertently locked eyes with Malfoy. Ron looked up at Harry, then down to where he saw Pansy staring at them while Malfoy stared at the table, then back to Harry. Ron briefly closed his eyes and sighed, then grabbed some bacon.

~*~*~*

The morning passed fairly quickly. Their classes for this year would primarily be review and preparation for N.E.W.T.s. Harry’s lack of sleep caught up with him midway through Transfiguration and he fell asleep at his desk — something he wouldn’t do again — as he awoke to his quill-turned-rat nibbling on his hair while McGonagall glared. He tried to catch a quick nap over their lunch break, but spent most of the hour tossing and turning in bed.

When it was nearly time for Potions to start he still lay in bed contemplating a life of Muggle stripping, or maybe retail work. Really, anything would do, as long as he didn’t have to get out of bed right this instant. 

A few more minutes passed and now he was definitely going to be late. Even though he had half of his strip show choreographed in his head, he rolled out of bed and started the trek to the Potions lab. If he skipped the class, Hermione would surely skin him alive and he didn’t think anyone would want to watch a heap of bones gyrate on stage.

~*~*~*

Harry entered the Potions lab and startled when Slughorn’s booming voice called out “Harry Potter, my boy! Come in, come in! We haven’t begun yet, you’re just in time.” Beaming, Slughorn swept his arm in a grandiose gesture, indicating a seat for Harry. Except it couldn’t be right. 

“Uh, Professor...I don’t think…”

“Sit, sit! We’ve got much to review, no more dawdling, now!” interrupted Slughorn. 

Harry warily approached the proffered seat and sat down slowly, eyeing the scowling man next to him.  _ Fucking Malfoy _ .

Harry did his best to pay attention to Slughorn, he really did, but Potions never interested him and Malfoy was so fidgety he kept catching Harry’s attention. 

“Will you stop moving?” Harry hissed at Malfoy. “It’s very distracting!”

“Your presence is very distracting, Potter, so don’t go criticizing me!” Malfoy hissed back. 

Harry quirked a brow and couldn’t stop the slight smile that pulled up one corner of his mouth. “My presence is distracting, is it, Malfoy?”

Malfoy spluttered and turned a very attractive shade of red, “I...I didn’t say…”

“Draco, my boy. Would you care to teach the class today? You and Harry seem to think you need not pay attention.” 

“No, Professor.  _ I’m _ paying attention,” Malfoy said, straightening in his chair and turning away from Harry.

“Sorry Professor,” Harry mumbled.

~*~*~*

When classes ended that day, Hermione insisted that the three of them spend some time in the library studying and sorting the day’s notes into three large packets that would be added to each day for easy end-of-year studying. 

About ten minutes later, Hermione had already shooed away Harry and Ron’s efforts to assist. Ron spent the time sketching out ideas for Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. He had spent a lot of time in the shop with George over the summer and planned to work there full-time when this year was over. 

Harry had no such goal and spent his time rocking back in his chair and inspecting his surroundings. Thus, he was the first to notice when Draco entered the library. 

He rocked forward and his chair legs slammed back to the floor. Hermione and Ron looked up and followed Harry’s gaze to Draco. Hermione’s brow furrowed, and then smoothed out as if she had just figured something out. 

“Draco!” she called. “Could you come here a moment?”

Ron gawped at her and Harry choked on air as Draco walked hesitantly toward their table, Pansy and Blaise following close behind. “Yes, Granger?” 

“I just had a question about the Astronomy notes today. Do you mind looking over them with me?” said Hermione, pulling out the empty chair next to her. 

“Sure…” Draco replied wearily, glancing between Hermione and Harry. Pansy scowled and stood with her arms crossed. 

Blaise grinned widely and sat himself down next to Ron. “Well look at us Slytherins and Gryffindors getting along. The young’uns might get ideas if they see this,” he boomed, winking at Harry. 

Harry’s amused grin turned to outright laughter at Ron’s bewildered look. 

“NO TALKING!” Madam Pince loudly hissed at their table, making them all immediately quiet down - even Pansy lunged to sit in a chair at their table to avoid standing out. 

Blaise cast a Muffliato Charm around them. “So, where were we...Harry! I believe you were telling us all about yourself.” 

“All about myself? What’s there to know that the Prophet hasn’t published?”

“Well, for one...are you single?” Blaise asked, leaning across the table and flashing a winning smile. 

Harry blushed at the implication in Blaise’s tone and then jumped as Draco screeched, “For Merlin’s sake, Blaise, he’s not even gay! Can’t you keep your prick in your pants for one bloody second?” Draco had stood up and was leaning against the table, breathing heavily. 

Harry’s annoyance flared at Draco’s presumption of his sexuality, so he nonchalantly leaned back in his chair. “Actually, I’m very bisexual, and very single,” he said, staring directly at Blaise and ignoring the heat on his cheeks. 

Draco inhaled so sharply he choked and started coughing. Pansy got up to assist him but he waved her away and hurriedly swept out of the library. 

“Blaise, you are such an arse,” Pansy said, then left the library as well. 

Blaise stood, “Harry, I look forward to talking with you more. I have a feeling there is a lot about you the world does not yet know.” He tipped his head in Hermione and Ron’s direction and then took his leave. 

“Bisexual!” Ron bellowed. 

Harry scrubbed his face, “I was going to tell you eventually. It’s something I’ve only recently worked out, and, well, it hasn’t come up yet.” 

“It’s no issue, Harry. I hope you know that,” Hermione said gently, placing her hand on top of Harry’s. 

“Yeah, mate, I don’t care, I just didn’t know. Blokes are nice. Blaise looks...nice.” 

“Oi, Ron, don’t. I’m perfectly capable of pulling a bloke if I want, no help needed.” 

“You’ve pulled blokes?” Ron asked, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Ron, dear, how about we go for a walk?” asked Hermione. “I’d like to stretch my legs a little.”

“Oh. Right. Yes.” Ron hurried to stand and turned to leave, then, remembering his surroundings, turned back to Harry, “Would you like to come?” 

“No, you and ‘Mione go. I think I’m going to try for a quick kip before dinner.”

Ron turned again and rushed out of the library, leaving Hermione to follow. 

“He really doesn’t care,” she said. “He just needs to adjust.”

Harry sighed, “Yeah, I know. Thanks for distracting him, ‘Mione. Just make sure he doesn’t try to set me up with anyone.” Harry and Hermione shared a grin, then she leaned down and lightly kissed Harry on the head, squeezing his shoulder before heading out to chase down Ron.

~*~*~*

That night, Harry lay in bed attempting to sleep yet again. He had forgotten to visit Madam Pomfrey to get a Sleep Potion. His nightmares and insomnia hadn’t been an issue over the summer because he could nap at any time and kept irregular hours, but after only one day back at school he was already feeling the effects of no sleep. 

He suddenly remembered he had stashed a bottle of Firewhiskey in his room before the term started. He got out of bed and found it, unscrewing the top and drinking straight from the bottle. He took another long drink and put the bottle away, grimacing at the burn of the liquor in his chest. He crossed his room again and fell into bed, his head already beginning to swim.

~*

_ Harry was in a cluttered room. Heat flared from every side and an unnatural red glow filled his vision. Fire. He found a broom and tried to leave, but he saw a flash of platinum hair, a pale, scared face. Malfoy. He reached out to grab him, but missed. He couldn’t stay. He heard screams but couldn’t turn around. _

_ ~* _

Harry shot up in bed, his throat raw and a ringing in his ears. His head was still swimming from the whiskey and he was sure he had been shouting. He was so, so hot and he had to get out. He stumbled out of bed, tripping when the sheets caught his legs. He fell hard and cried out again. The tightness in his chest was unbearable and he couldn't breathe. He started clawing at the sheets, unheeded tears streaming down his face. 

Then, a cool hand was on his cheek. Another hand was placed gently atop both of his to stop him clawing at his sheets. His breath heaved and the tightness felt like it was pushing out of his body and tearing him apart. The calm hands quickly untangled his legs from the sheet and he bolted, not looking back. He ran until he reached the top of the tower. He lay against the cool stone floor and stared at the immeasurable expanse of sky until his breath calmed and the tightness receded.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry stirred awake and became aware of three things: he was cold, his body hurt, and he was surrounded by strange noises. He couldn’t remember where he was and experience had taught him not to act rashly in these situations. He cracked one eye open and saw a vast expanse of sky just beginning to brighten with approaching dawn, and a thestral lazily circling. His memory of the night before came back all at once and he realized he had fallen asleep at the top of the tower.

He grunted as he pushed himself off the stone floor, his bones creaking in protest, and his joints stiff with cold. He lumbered down the spiral stairs until he finally reached the common room entrance. As he slowly made his way to the boys’ dorms, he noticed Malfoy asleep on a couch by the fire. He had a flashback to his dream and the cool hands that had freed him from the sheets.  _ Surely that hadn’t been Malfoy, _ thought Harry.  _ Why would he have helped? Why would he have been awake? But, then, he’s out here and not in his room.  _ Shaking his head, Harry continued to his bed and snuggled into his covers, casting multiple Warming Charms over himself. 

~*~*~*

A few short hours later Harry was again awake and dragging himself to breakfast. He still ached all over from his night spent on stone, his head hurt from the disrupted sleep, and a vague sense of unease still lingered from his panic attack. When he finally made it to the Great Hall he was annoyed that Ron and Hermione weren’t there yet.  _ Probably spent all night shagging and can’t even make it to breakfast with their best friend _ , he thought, thoroughly immersing himself in his bad mood. 

“Harry, come sit!” Blaise’s distinct voice burst through Harry’s introspection. Blaise looked entirely too refreshed and entirely too cheerful for this early in the morning, but Harry didn’t want to be rude, so he veered towards their end of the table and sat. It just so happened that this seat was directly across from Malfoy. 

“Oi, Harry, you look knackered,” said Blaise, scooting a teapot towards him. “What do you take with your tea?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer just as Draco whispered, “Just a splash of milk.”

Draco didn’t seem to realize what he had said. He reached for a piece of toast and looked up, startling when he realized everyone, Harry included, was staring at him. Blaise raised an eyebrow at Harry, who just nodded dumbly. 

Draco looked around in a panic and then darted from the table and out of the Hall. 

Blaise laughed warmly and clapped Harry on the back. “It seems Draco isn’t over his school-boy crush,” he said, and then proceeded to continue eating breakfast like he hadn’t just tilted Harry’s world. 

Pansy stood up. “Seriously, Blaise? Could you be more of a wanker?” she asked, before stalking off. 

Blaise just shrugged. “You know, Harry, we could all be dead tomorrow. I just don’t see any point in tip-toeing around minor issues. I do quite like Draco though, so I suppose this means you are off my market. Pity,” Blaise lamented, noticeably eyeing Harry. He then smiled and stood, “I ought to do some damage control. See you in Herbology.” 

Harry sat there, his mouth stupidly slack.  _ What the literal fuck just happened? _

~*~*~*

Harry made it to Herbology early. He had quickly drunk his tea — burning his tongue as usual — and left the Great Hall. It was too noisy and he didn’t have an appetite anyway so he figured a slow walk to class would help clear his mind. Neville was the only one in the greenhouse when he arrived, and he greeted Harry cheerfully. 

“Neville, what are you doing?” Harry looked on in confusion as Neville appeared to alternately tickle the leaves of a plant, then stroke the stem, then tickle, and repeat. 

“This is a  _ Wankerbari Caulis _ , or Wanker’s Stem. The name can be off-putting, but it does only reproduce when manually stimulated. It’s one of the main ingredients in Pepperup Potion, used for its stimulating effects,” Neville grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Harry as he began stroking the the stem again. 

Harry completely lost it. He started laughing and couldn’t stop, bending over double and slapping his thigh, wheezing and struggling to catch his breath. Neville also started cackling and hunched over the garden table, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes.

“What’s going on in here?” Hermione said as she entered the greenhouse, Ron entering behind her and munching on bacon toast. 

“It’s just...Nev...he…,” Harry sputtered while making a wanking motion, causing him to dissolve into giggles again.

“Nev was wanking in here?” Ron asked, looking around as if it was the last place he’d fancy a wank — he thought it very likely that some rogue plant would try to tear your bollocks off if you lost focus.

“Oh! No, Ron, I don’t think he was wanking, he’s got a  _ Wankerbari Caulis _ . It must be reproduction time.”

At Ron’s confused look, Hermione explained further, “Wanker’s Stem. It reproduces asexually, but requires manual stimulation to start the process.”

“Yeah, and Harry interrupted my pace, so i’ll have to start over again at lunch,” Neville said, still wheezing a little and not looking at all upset. 

Even Hermione had to stifle a snigger at that.

“So your plant lost its boner? Honestly, you’ve all lost the plot,” said Ron, moving to his station and sitting down with a shake of his head. 

Harry and Neville slowly calmed down as more students trickled in. Harry had temporarily forgotten the odd events of the morning, until he noticed Blaise and Pansy enter without Draco. Harry tilted his head at Blaise, who just shrugged and mouthed  _ sorry _ .

The rest of the morning went much the same as the previous day, but Draco didn’t show up to any classes. Harry spent his lunch hour pacing his room. He had looked for Draco in the common room and the library and hadn’t found him. It occurred to him that this was probably a good thing, as he didn’t know what he even planned to say to him. 

Harry really hoped Draco was done pouting by the time Potions started. He was pretty sure they were starting a Polyjuice brew in today’s class and he didn’t fancy starting it alone. He knew he would cock it up somehow and have to face Draco’s wrath when he finally decided to return to class.

~*~*~*

Potions began and Draco hadn’t shown. Harry angrily gathered all the supplies needed from the storeroom, all the while mumbling to himself about self-righteous gits that couldn’t make it to class for no reason. Harry had been embarrassed many times in his life and he always still fulfilled his obligations. 

He walked back toward his table, looking down and still grumbling to himself when he quite literally ran into the object of his disgruntlement. 

“Watch it, Potter,” snapped Draco, with a sneer.

“Oi, you’re the one who’s late. I didn’t know you’d be here. Figured you’d taken ill since you’ve been missing all morning,” said Harry petulantly. Admittedly, not his best response, but he found Draco’s sneer oddly alluring. 

Draco just glared and began picking through the ingredients Harry had chosen, sending him back to get plumper leeches and fresher knotgrass. Still grumbling, Harry did as asked. 

When he returned to their table, Draco had already begun preparing the ingredients he had deemed suitable. “Well, what do you want me to do?” said Harry, resigning himself to potions assistant. 

“You can powder this bicorn horn. Even a plonker can do that without messing up.” 

Harry remained silent for a moment, internally stewing. “You didn’t seem to think I was a plonker this morning...or,” Harry dropped his voice, leaning closer to Draco, “last night. It was you in my room, wasn’t it?”

A blush tinged Draco’s cheek and Harry had the sudden urge to reach out and brush his fingers across it to see if it was warm. Instead, he settled back in his seat and let silence envelop their station.

~*~*~* 

Draco avoided Harry through the rest of their classes and disappeared again after Astronomy. Harry agreed to go to the library with Hermione and Ron, secretly hoping he would see Draco there. No luck, however, and he didn’t have any more to do today than he did yesterday. After fidgeting about for nearly half an hour Hermione sighed and suggested he go for a walk, or perhaps a fly. 

Harry hadn’t been on a broom in ages and immediately agreed, wishing a wistful-looking Ron luck and dashing out of the library before Hermione remembered anything else she may want him to do. 

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening flying around the grounds of Hogwarts. He held out some hope that he may see Draco doing the same, but quickly dismissed the thought and just enjoyed the feeling of open space and fresh air and  _ freedom _ . Nothing would ever compare to being on a broom. Harry thought he ought to work this into his daily routine.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry entered the Great Hall about halfway through dinner. He was still riding the high of flying and, as he approached the 8th year table, he saw Draco and grinned, directing all of his happiness and joy towards him. Draco seemed to freeze, like he had been caught in a Basilisk’s stare, and didn’t return the grin. Harry faltered, and shifted his attention to Hermione and Ron, joining them at the table. 

“You seem well, Harry,” Hermione observed with a smile, ruffling his already thoroughly disheveled hair. 

Harry minutely shook his head and returned her smile, “Flying was a brilliant idea, ‘Mione. I had forgotten how much I enjoy it.”

It didn’t escape Harry’s notice that Draco left dinner early and was not in the common room when Harry returned there later. He and Ron played a round of Wizard’s Chess — which Harry lost in a truly spectacular fashion — while Hermione read a huge tome, curled in a chair next to them. 

“Mate, I haven’t taken you down so brutally in ages. What’s got into you?” Ron inquired, looking quite chuffed despite his ‘concerned’ words.

“Nothing, really. It’s just...Do you guys think Draco fancies me?”

Ron choked on the Gillywater he had just taken a gulp of and Hermione closed her book. “What makes you say that, Harry?” Hermione prodded cautiously.

“Well, at breakfast Blaise mentioned Draco had a school-boy crush on me, and then Draco left and missed classes and then was short with me in Potions and weird at dinner, and I think I kind of fancy him because, really, he’s so fit and I didn’t see that before and his cheeks are sharp and I want to touch them, I think, but it’s  _ Malfoy _ and how did that happen and why is he so quiet these days and why do I like when he snaps at me and I’m just so confused and so tired, ‘Mione, and what if he does fancy me? The war hero and the war criminal? Together? And why do I even care about that—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Harry, settle,” Hermione cut off his ramble while Ron looked on with a horrified expression on his face. “Let’s explore one thing at a time, shall we?”

Harry sighed.

“So Blaise told you Draco had a crush on you, and you think you have a crush on him?”

“On second thought, thanks for being open to talking this out, but I think I just want to sleep. I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Harry stood and, with an awkward wave, he left for his room. 

“Blimey, Hermione! Harry and  _ Malfoy! _ ” said Ron, finally finding his voice. 

“Yes, well. I’m not surprised. They always were drawn to each other, weren’t they?”

“Drawn to each other? More like enemies.”

“They say hate and love are a fine line. Come on Ron, let’s go to bed,” Hermione held out her hand and led Ron to her room. 

~*~*~*

Harry paced his room that night, still trying to wrap his head around this new way of seeing Malfoy. He couldn’t deny that he was very attracted to him, and as he thought back on his summer, cruising the gay Muggle scene, he cringed as he realized he only ever chose lean, blonde men. One guy in particular that he had gone out with multiple times had dyed his hair nearly platinum — that perhaps should have been a giveaway to his preferences. Harry flopped onto his bed, groaning his frustration into his pillow. He was hard right now, but in no mood to wank, so he shut his eyes tight and tried to will himself to sleep.

~*

_ Harry was in a dark, crowded tunnel. He felt trapped and couldn’t decide which way to go. One direction was icy cold and felt like despair personified. The other direction blazed with unnatural fire; a path barely noticeable through the licking flames. Something was on him, pressing him down tightly, squeezing his life out. He wanted to give up and had nearly decided to do so when he saw it. A flash of platinum. He wasn’t alone. He fought the crushing weight. He had to save Malfoy. But the harder he struggled, the tighter he was pinned. He heard screams, but he couldn’t move. _

_ ~* _

This time when Harry awoke, he was already on the floor. He jumped up and ran out the door, down the hall, and out of the common room. He was so intent on reaching the top of the tower that he didn’t notice he was being followed. 

He leaned over the rail and breathed the cool night air deeply. His gasping breaths from the exertion of the climb mingling with the leftover dry sobs of his nightmare. He beat his hand on the stone rail, so frustrated that he was here again. Frustrated that he couldn’t sleep, frustrated that he hadn’t saved everyone, frustrated that he couldn’t just be happy he was alive, frustrated that Draco wouldn’t just talk to him, frustrated at the entire world. 

As his sobs calmed and his heart rate slowed, he backed away from the rail and slid down the wall, sitting with his knees hugged to his chest, his forehead resting on them. He was exhausted. 

His head snapped up as he felt the warmth of a Heating Charm trickle over him. Draco stood a few paces away, his wand lowering.

“Can I join you?”

Harry grunted noncommittally, he didn’t have energy for more. Draco sat gingerly against the wall, his pose mirroring Harry’s. Neither spoke for a long moment. Draco was the one to once again break the silence, “I can’t sleep either. My nightmares are so bad I’ve forced insomnia on myself to avoid them. I always see you leave and I wondered where you went.”

“So it was you in my room,” whispered Harry.

“Yes. I heard you scream...you said my name,” Draco slanted his eyes towards Harry, checking to see if he would say anything. When he didn’t, Draco continued, “I’ve never seen anyone besides myself have such a bad panic attack. I was worried when you didn’t come back. I tried to find you, but couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Harry turned to Draco, “You’re sorry? What does it even matter to you?” Harry couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Are you just sorry your side didn’t win, or sorry I wasn’t among the dead?” Harry’s voice had risen and his eyes were wide. It was clear he was still running on adrenaline from his nightmare and Draco held up his hands placatingly, shrinking away from Harry’s intense stare.

Harry seemed to remember himself and visibly deflated. He thunked his head against the wall and sighed, scrubbing his hands roughly through his hair. “That was uncalled for, I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“It’s ok, I understand,” Draco said softly. “I didn’t even want to come back here because of this. The memories are too much, even this fucking tower mocks me.”

“Why did you come back?”

“McGonagall, mostly. She pointed out I had no other prospects and without N.E.W.T.s I would definitely never find work in the Wizarding World. I doubt I will even with N.E.W.T.s. No-one wants to hire an ex-Death Eater.”

“What would you have done if McGonagall didn’t force you to come back?” Harry purposely did not mention McGonagall had done the same to him. 

“I don’t know. Maybe move to France, maybe find a Muggle job, probably just whatever my mother wanted to do.”

Harry hummed. “So, you’ve told me what people have forced you to do, and who you would follow if on your own. But, Draco, what do  _ you _ want? Just you, not what McGonagall says society wants, not what your mother wants, not what the bloody Minister of Magic wants… what do  _ YOU _ want?”

Draco turned away from Harry, a lump in his throat and tears dangerously close to falling. He was nearly 19 years old and this was the first time anyone  _ asked  _ what he wanted instead of telling him. Of course it would be Harry fucking Potter doing the asking. As if Draco needed any more reason to harbour feelings for him.

“It’s not that easy, Potter. You of all people should know that,” Draco said, eyes cast to the floor. He didn’t trust himself to look directly at Harry. 

“You’re right,  _ I _ didn’t choose to have my parents killed.  _ I  _ didn’t choose to be raised in a home where I was treated worse than the postman.  _ I _ didn’t choose to be the saviour of the wizarding world, so yeah, I know how ‘not easy’ it is to choose one’s own path,” Harry paused for a moment, clenching his jaw.

“But I sure as fuck chose to fight for what was right. Hell, I chose to fucking  _ die _ because I saw everything else that was worth living for. Even now, I’m choosing to  _ keep _ living even though most days that’s far from what I want.”

Draco looked at Harry, really looked at him, and saw the deep lines under his eyes, the tears shimmering just below the surface, the stress he held in his shoulders. He had never looked more human, more desirable. 

“You.” The word was out before Draco could swallow it back. 

“What?” Harry looked at Draco, at the raw vulnerability on his pale, nearly glowing face. He reached out and brushed the cheek that had so been captivating him. Draco closed his eyes and pressed his face into Harry’s touch. 

Draco took a fortifying breath, “What I want, what I’ve always wanted, is you.” He swallowed, “Even before I knew we were destined to be enemies I wanted you, but then that became improbable as we chose different sides of the war. I made decisions I had to make to protect my family and it became apparent that having you would not just be improbable, it would be impossible. It didn’t matter then what I wanted, not that anyone around me cared to even ask.” Draco stood and started toward the stairs. 

Harry jumped up. “Where are you going?” he said, grabbing Draco’s hand. 

Draco looked down at their joined hands and then back up into Harry’s impossibly bright eyes. Tears fell from his own. “Potter, you and I can’t be together. No-one would accept it. It can’t be.” Draco tried to wrench his hand from Harry’s grasp, but he only held on tighter. 

“Fuck them! Fuck them all! What do either of us owe to the Wizarding World? We were children, for Merlin’s sake, and they put the burden of success or failure on us. It wasn’t fair. I refuse to live by standards other than my own anymore,” Harry’s chest heaved with his impassioned words. 

“Don’t...don’t do this. I can’t…” Draco finally pulled free of Harry’s hold and fled down the stairs.

Harry stood in the same spot for long minutes, looking at the empty stairwell. Then, making up his mind, he walked down the stairs with purpose and toward the 8th year dorms.


	5. Chapter 5

“Draco,” Harry loudly whispered as he tapped on the door to Draco’s room. He heard the click of the lock disengage and he quickly slipped inside the dim room. 

“You called me ‘Draco’.” 

“Err, yeah.” Harry rubbed his neck, “I suppose that’s what people do, right?”

“I...suppose. What do you want?”

“I don’t feel that our conversation was over. I want to continue it,” Harry said, straightening his back and crossing the room, plopping down on the end of Draco’s bed.

Draco scooted back toward the headboard, far away from where Harry sat. “I don’t have anything more to say, Potter. We can’t be together and I think it best if you leave this conversation, and me, alone.”

“Still ‘Potter’, eh?” said Harry, scooting minutely closer to Draco. “I don’t see why we can’t be together if it’s what we both want,  _ Draco _ ,” Harry nearly purred his name, scooting closer again.

Harry watched Draco’s throat bob as he swallowed. “Why are you doing this?”Draco’s voice wavered. “Are you putting me on?”

“No, I’m not. Someone once told me there is no point in tip-toeing around minor issues. I think folks who don’t want to see us together is a minor issue, not worth our time.” Harry reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Draco’s face. Draco whimpered, and the noise went straight to Harry’s half-hard cock, filling it fully. 

Harry groaned and closed the small gap between them, capturing Draco’s lips with his own. He twisted his fingers through Draco’s impossibly soft hair and gasped when Draco turned the aggressor and pushed Harry back, wrapping his long fingers around the back of Harry’s neck with one hand, and clutching his shirt with the other. Draco pressed his height advantage and beared down on Harry, deepening the kiss, his own cock lengthening and tenting the joggers he was wearing.

Draco continued to press into Harry until he was laid on his back and Draco hovered over him. Draco broke the kiss and pulled back, his eyes searching Harry’s for consent. Harry responded by grabbing Draco’s arm and pulling him fully on top of him, grinding his hips up and conquering his lips once again. Draco moaned and grinded his cock against Harry’s. 

Harry’s hands scrambled across Draco’s back and pulled off his t-shirt. When Draco sat up to assist with the disrobing, Harry propped himself up and removed his own shirt. Draco pressed his palms flat against Harry’s chest, eagerly humping him. Harry placed his hands on Draco’s waist and thrust up, head dizzy with pleasure. 

Suddenly, Draco rolled off Harry and stood next to the bed, gasping for air. Dazed, Harry looked at him, confusion and hurt written on his face.

“Harry, we have to talk about this.”

“You called me ‘Harry’.”

“I heard that’s what people do.” Draco quirked a sly smile and Harry melted just a little more, his cock nearly pushing his own joggers off his body. 

“Do you really want this, Harry? Am I your first? What are we doing?”

Harry rolled to his side and grabbed Draco’s hand. “I really, really want this, you’re not my first, and if I am reading the signs correctly, we’re trying to fuck.” Harry became pensive, “Wait, am I  _ your _ first?”

Draco chuckled, “No. I spent my summer searching out every dark haired bloke I could find.”

“Funny that, I spent my summer searching out every blonde bloke I could find.”

Draco’s pupils widened in desire and he trailed his fingers lightly across Harry’s chest. “What position do you prefer?”

“I’m fine with either, but I usually bottom,” Harry whispered, feeling incredibly vulnerable. His eyes were glued to Draco’s crotch and his arse twitched in desire. “But honestly, either is fine.”

“Now, now Harry, you know I’m going to need you to be more specific,” Draco drawled as he slowly — oh so slowly — raked his fingernails down Harry’s quivering abdomen. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. What do  _ YOU _ want?” Draco said, with a mischievous smile. 

Harry’s eyes opened wide before narrowing in annoyance, “Draco, now is not the time…”

“Shhh…” Draco whispered as one finger trailed across Harry’s bottom lip, wrenching a moan from him, “Now is most definitely the time. Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you,” Harry managed through gritted teeth.

Draco inhaled sharply and then dropped his trousers. He wasn’t wearing pants and Harry moaned embarrassingly loudly as Draco’s flushed, pink prick bobbed out so close to his face. 

Draco leaned over, his lips brushing Harry’s ear as he whispered, “Details, Harry. I need details.”

This time Harry didn’t bother with complaining. He was desperate for relief and would do anything to stop this slow torture and compel Draco to touch his cock, or kiss him, or roughly shove his own cock so far into Harry that neither would be able to tell where one began and the other ended. “I want you to fuck me, you prick,” Harry said, his wide green eyes staring directly into Draco’s. “I want you to grab my cock and wank it while I take you completely in my arse. I want to feel you come completely undone while deep inside me. I want you to watch me writhe underneath you until I can’t take anymore and then I want you to watch me come.”

This time it was Draco who moaned involuntarily. His pupils had become so dilated with lust his grey eyes were nearly black. This didn’t escape Harry’s notice, and he decided to press his advantage while he had it. “I want you to fill my arse with your come. I want you to make me unequivocally yours.”

Draco’s mouth descended on Harry’s in a frenzy of sucking and nibbling while he climbed on top of him again, rubbing his naked cock against Harry’s clothed one. Harry rasped out unintelligible noises.

“Lose...the trousers... _ fuck _ …” Harry managed to rasp, and Draco didn’t ask again. With a practiced swoop he ripped Harry’s trousers and pants off in one tug and climbed on top again, one hand grasping both of their cocks and stroking them. Murmuring a Lubrication Charm, Draco shifted up and reached down to find Harry’s furled entrance. Swirling his finger around, he then pressed in straight to the second knuckle. 

Harry moaned and nearly bucked Draco off him. He angled his arse down, trying to force more of Draco’s finger inside him. “More. Give me more,” he gasped out. Draco groaned and complied, adding a second finger and scissoring them open, stretching Harry in preparation. 

Harry groaned. Never had sex felt this good. He was  _ so _ hard and Draco was  _ so _ sexy. His chest swelled and he leaned up, swallowing the head of Draco’s prick, moaning around the shaft as he tasted his precome. Draco’s head fell back and his fingers slowed as he thrust into Harry’s hot mouth. 

Draco locked eyes with Harry and nearly came undone. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the sight before him could be real. Harry’s lips were shiny with saliva and stretched around Draco’s cock. He grabbed the base tightly to stop his building orgasm and pulled out of Harry’s mouth. “We’ll explore that later. For now, I want to fuck you.”

With that he moved off Harry’s legs and settled between them, lifting them over his shoulders. Harry writhed and tried to push his arse closer. “Patience, Harry. You’ll get what you want.” Draco murmured another series of spells - Lubrication, Cleansing, and Protection.

Harry stopped moving and stared at Draco. They held each other’s gaze as Draco slowly, slowly pressed his cock into Harry. Draco had to fight to keep his eyes open; they wanted to close and roll back in his head. Harry’s arse was ecstasy. 

Harry finally broke their gaze as Draco became fully seated in him. He closed his eyes and arched his back, attempting to take more of Draco in. All restraint snapped like a tight band no longer able to hold under the pressure. Draco grasped Harry’s cock and wanked it in rhythm to his thrusts. Harry cried out and, true to his word, writhed underneath Draco, nearly breaking from the pleasure. 

Harry’s cries became more erratic and staccato and he suddenly opened his eyes and stared directly into Draco’s as his orgasm crashed into him and he pulsed hot come across his stomach and Draco’s hand. His arse clenched tightly around Draco’s cock and, two strokes later, he ground into Harry and cried out hoarsely as he came deep into his channel. He collapsed on top of Harry, and both fell almost immediately asleep.

~*~*~*

The next morning, Harry woke up to the feeling of a hot body pressed against his back. He shifted slightly and his arse twinged. Heated flooded his cheeks as he remembered where he was and who he was with. He felt Draco shift behind him and he slowly turned around, his green eyes meeting Draco’s grey. 

“What do we do now?” Draco asked.

“We do what we want. We live our lives for ourselves, and no one else,” Harry declared. “I...I want you to be a part of mine, if you want that, of course.”

“Obviously I do, you tosser,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “Now...about that blow job…”

Harry grinned and pressed Draco into the sheets, trailing kisses down his abdomen.

 

Endnote: My prompt was so incredibly amazing and sparked a whole line of thought surrounding  _ explicit _ consent. I sought to explore how it looks when someone is trying to figure out what they truly want, and how scary and vulnerable it can be to verbalize those needs in a direct way.


End file.
